


Compassion and Surrender

by MT_scribbles



Category: City of Love: Paris (Visual Novel)
Genre: Bondage, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Light Femdom, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Sex, actually no there IS a hint of plot but like super minimal, like really really light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 09:09:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19720609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MT_scribbles/pseuds/MT_scribbles
Summary: “Pretty please?” Hugo forces himself to look at her. Holding eye contact is difficult when her touches shake him to his core. “With cherries on top?”A little grin crosses her lips.“What happens if I just sit here and enjoy myself, officer?”(Or in other words: Hugo and Millie attempt bondage. There's a gratuitous amount of kisses and cuddles.)





	Compassion and Surrender

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Orhan Pamuk's "The gap between compassion and surrender is love’s darkest, deepest region."

As Hugo has come to expect, Millie throws herself to this with the same kind of fastidious intensity she does everything else, no matter how frivolous. That is to say: the first time they tried, she stopped halfway through, did nothing but breathe for a moment, and then said, “We need to go again another day.”

“Why?” Was abruptly the only response he could come up with, drawing long, labored breaths through clenched teeth. His hands rattled once above his head. “Is, ah. Is something wrong?”

“Because.” She kissed him- once, twice, thrice. As many times as it took to draw him back from the brink. “Your wrists are going to bruise.”

While he didn’t immediately see the sense in her words, he only put up a token amount of protest when she herded him out of bed and into the showers. Millie behaved as if nothing was out of the ordinary, running her fingers through her dark hair and then doing the same to him when he merely stood in a daze. He followed her gentle but unspoken direction quietly and got halfway through the motions of washing her hair before he felt alert again.

“So that happened,” He muttered wryly. The close-lipped kiss he pressed to the top of her head was both in thanks and apology.

“Yeah it did,” Replied she, shrugging. “Don’t worry too much about it. We’ll try again another time.”

“But-“

“ _Another time_.” A trail of lazy kisses was brushed across his collarbone. Millie peeled his hands off her to inspect his wrists, tracing the marks left by his metal cuffs gingerly. “I will look into our options later. Do you want to help? If you feel up for it?”

Despite feeling slightly chafed by the whole ordeal, Hugo couldn't help a small smile. "I'd like that," He said and laid another firm kiss between her brows just to see her disgruntled scowl.

Afterward, they spent the rest of the evening watching documentaries on his laptop, trading lazy kisses and drying each other's hair. They managed to burn through a few on real estate of all things before Hugo realized that Millie was nodding off too much to be paying attention anymore, so he ushered her out of bed and played with Piglet while she did her nightly routine. When she's done, he deposited the cat on the floor to make room for his mom, and they fell asleep with her half on top of him and tucked comfortably beneath his chin.

At breakfast the next day, Millie made a point of reminding him she wouldn't mind calling the whole thing off altogether. She didn't bring it up again, seemingly content to wait until he broached the subject first- which he did, shortly after. She promptly announced research was in order and left to find her laptop; when she came back, he caught her around her middle and plopped her into his lap before she could settle next to him. Millie went along with it without batting an eye, simply adjusting her new position so he could see over her shoulder.

“I’ve been told t-shirts could work, too.” She showed him the pictures on her laptop, pointing at one in particular. “Do you think you’d be okay with this?”

His hand felt big and clumsy gripping the sides of the screen, but breathing in the scent of her hair helped distract him from any lingering awkwardness. “We can try,” He said. Then, to a picture on the same page, “Not that one though.”

“Gotcha.” With a little flourish, the offending image whooshed away. “You want to try any of these on me?”

A shivery sort of tension crept through him at the thought, settling in the pit of his stomach. “Yeah,” He rumbled. She made a noise like she could feel that, lying against him. “What do you like?”

“Something vanilla?” Millie turned her head to steal a peck, lightning-quick. Her grin was delightfully mischievous and knowing. “I like being able to see you.”

The research was postponed for a few hours after that, but eventually, they reached, if not true preparedness, then a mutual understanding of each other's preferences.

Hugo no longer felt as raw as he did when they stumbled upon the idea the first time, but he was also in no hurry to test out what they'd learned that afternoon. It'd just be a waste to damper their excitement by rushing things.

~ ~ ~

By the time the thought crosses his mind again, it has been a couple of weeks since they had that talk. They still have sex in the meantime, just without either of them mentioning what is in the nightstand’s drawer. Tonight, though, when Millie undresses him, only pausing the kiss to let his t-shirt pass through his head, Hugo’s mind goes to the way the shirt is still wound around his wrists, and his lapse of attention doesn’t escape her.

“Hugo?” She is breathing heavily against him. Her hair has come undone from her ponytail and her smudged lipstick is ruining the perfect seams of her mouth, and his breath catches and refuses to ease from his chest. “Still with me?”

“Yeah,” He holds her head and draws her bottom lip into his mouth, basking in the way that makes her sigh into him. His other hand sweeps up her back to unclasp her bra.

“I want to try again tonight.” He let the delicate garment fall over her shoulders, feeling coy and bold at the same time. “I want...”

Millie’s eyes flutter shut when he cups her breasts and circles her dusty peaks with his thumbs. But there is a bright smile on her face and a brighter twinkle in her eyes when she regards him; his toes curl with the look she wears.

“Do you want to tie me up?” She purrs, “Or can I tie you?”

_God, that voice_ , He thinks. There is nothing left but to give as good as he's got. Wordlessly, he holds her to his chest and walks backward until he is on his back on the bed, with Millie spreading her knees and straddling him.

“I want you to tie me up tonight.” He says, caressing her thighs, “And I want to watch as you undo me completely.”

She hums, biting her lips, and then bends to fish out what they bought. A roll of black, nondescript tape hangs on one pale finger as she emerges, and the grin she graces him with can only be described as devilish.

"So demanding, officer Dubois."

“Someone I know said I’m allowed to be.”

“A wise one! That’s rare in this day and age.”

The screech of pulling tape should be jarring, but Millie is nothing if not careful with him. She tears a length of tape without preamble, then holds his hands up and lets him find a position he’s most comfortable with. Only after running an inquisitive hand down his arms and across his shoulders to test for strain does she bind his wrists to the headboard.

Despite his assurances, Hugo feels his hands tingle, blood rushing from his limbs down his stomach, pooling between his legs. Millie isn’t even touching him now, sitting astride his waist but not letting him arch into her. She spreads out one hand on his stomach and presses just enough to pin him against the bed.

"Christ..." Her voice is strained in a way he's never heard before, at least not this early on. The soft wonder and adoration in her gaze rob him of his breath. "What do I even _do_ with you?”

“Somewhere a little south would be nice,” Hugo suggests. The fond little scowl makes an appearance, taking over her face but can’t quite conceal the quirk of her lips.

“Oh, shush.”

Millie rolls off the bed in one fluid motion and puts the tape away. Her pants come off next- he vaguely remembers having unbuttoned it in the hallway- but her panties stays on. Even lying on his back, he can see the flirty hint of skin, the sweet little bow on her mound, how the sheer fabric stretches over the swell of her ass. He can’t help the appreciative sigh, and Millie throws him a smirk over her shoulder.

“Like it?” One finger curls teasingly beneath the side seam. “They also come in blue.”

Images of soft navy lace hugging her hips flash through his mind. He clenches and unclenches his hands. “You’d look good in blue.”

“Flatterer.”

She wastes little time after that, seating herself by his hips and then running the tip of one finger up his thigh, then across the cut of his hips and down the other. The hint of pressure makes him twitch; his throat dries out in an instant, and he can feel her eyes intently on him as he swallows.

“Should I have made you get naked before I tie you up?” She muses out-loud, “What if I leave you like this?”

Millie finger-walks back up his thigh, then traces out the inner seam of his pants. He suddenly feels exposed and yet terribly aware of his own body, every stretch of clothed skin burning up. His legs fall open on their own accord, offering her more.

“I would greatly prefer that you do not.”

“Oh?” The taunting touch lingers at his crotch, briefly, then moves on towards the other seam.

“Pretty please?” Hugo forces himself to look at her. Holding eye contact is difficult when her touches shake him to his core; he chokes back a groan when the delicate pressure circles the base of his cock. “With cherries on top?” He tries again, blinking innocently up at her.

A little grin crosses her lips; she kisses his hip bones, one after the other, then swings her leg over him. “And what if I don’t want to?” She goads.

Her touches might be distracting before, but the warm heat that settles on his lap is nothing short of torture. The hands stroking up his chest, mapping out everywhere sensitive enough to leave him gasping, tell him she knows this.

“What happens if I just sit here and enjoy myself, officer?”

A violent shudder tears through him, both from her nail grazing his nipple and the smiling promise in her words. He flexes and strains against the tape without meaning to. Millie gasps in delight.

"Do that again," She commands and then laughs, bright and giddy, when he complies immediately. "Well, well. Police training does have its perks, doesn't it?"

He chuckles breathlessly. “Are you just here to ogle the goods then, detective?”

All she does in response is biting her lips at him. He wants to reach up and pull her to his lips, to lick that grin off her mouth- but with his hands bound, he settles for rolling his hips into hers instead.

The delicate ‘ah’ that escapes her burns him like fire.

“I want you,” He says urgently, suddenly has no wits for banter anymore. “ _Now_ , Millie.”

Whatever he means to say next is smothered in a deep kiss. Even then, she keeps him on his toes. A teasing flick of her tongue here, a hint of teeth there, worrying and pulling at his bottom lip, but always drawing back when he arches up for more. Her hips roll against his clothed one almost subconsciously, in sync with her breathing, and before long Hugo is trembling and gasping under her attention. His hands have balled into tight fists above his head.

“Don’t strain yourself,” She whispers against his lips, “Let go. Relax for me.”

It feels like fighting against a raging current to loosen his hands, to force his body to relent and stop fighting, letting himself sink. This can drown him, Hugo thinks, feeling robbed of breath, but Millie is there to hold him steady, and suddenly it doesn't feel like he has to hold on anymore.

“That’s it,” She smiles and reaches down between them, “You’re doing so well.”

Sparks light up the back of his eyelids when he feels her close her hand around him. The dry, almost chaste kisses pressed along the length of his bared neck and the thumb spreading pre-cum all over his crown work in counterbalance, tearing into the last of his control. Hugo rocks into her hand without shame, feeling her grin against his sternum. Heat gathers in his chest and creeps steadily outward, enticed by her deliberate strokes, crashing again and again into the sensation of cooling sweat on his skin. He can feel rather than see himself twitch in her grasp when his knees come up on instinct and Millie, without hesitation, firmly spread them again. That earns him an appreciative murmur and an open-mouthed kiss.

Flashes of fire and ice consume him. His hips jerk beneath a particularly cruel twist of her wrist. She gives his neck a warning nip, and then stills. Protests burst out of him in deep, pained groans- he’s so close, _so close_ \- but she doesn’t relent, holding him to the mattress and away from any friction.

To his surprise, the first coherent thing that leaves his mouth is a single, shivering, “ _Please_.”

Millie shushes him, not unkindly, and combs her fingers through his hair. She brushes her thumb on his swollen lips- those again, the teasing touches, suggestive and unrelenting. They calm the buzz of blood rushing in his ears but do nothing to soothe his aching cock. The growls he hides against his shoulder sound broken and frustrated even to his ears, yet he can’t do anything but helplessly shudder when she twirls a lock of hair behind his ear around her finger.

She punctuates every word she says next with a kiss that would have left him shaking had he not been doing so already. “Be patient. We have all night.”

The sheer thought fills him both with joy and dread.

She is breathing heavily, too, when she sits up to pull down his pants and underwear. The shock of cool air almost makes him jump, but it’s nothing in comparison to the trail of kisses Millie leaves as she makes her way down his stomach, ending just at the patch of blond hair between his legs. He throws his head back, knowing what comes next, and still can’t quite contain a moan when he feels plush, wet lips teasing around the crown of his cock. She mouths along the length of him, taunting him with barely-there kisses in-between spikes of firm pressure, holding his hip to control his unwitting rocking motions.

And she makes sure that he’s looking when she drags her flattened tongue slowly up the underside of his cock.

“Fuck!” The current is back again. He arches into her caresses but fights not to buck into her. The effort reduces him to drawn-out, breathless shudders, ending in a keening noise when she takes him into her mouth.

She hums around his length; Hugo cries out again, feeling electricity building, scorching. A quick nip on the vein of his inner thigh, the pain pulling him back to the present, followed immediately by a flick of her tongue to catch his leaking pre-cum; a scrape of teeth along a sensitive vein near the base of his cock, chased by a gentling kiss on the tip. His thighs and back ache from the tension winding his body up but Millie is ruthless, taking her sweet time with him. She tethers him on that edge of completion for what feels like hours, a cycle of lips, tongue, teeth, until he feels like a live wire, white-hot and wrung tight.

Her mouth makes a wet, loud pop when she sits up. Air floods into his lungs in chest-deep gasps, but it does little to ease his suffering. Millie keeps a loose hold around his cock, and it takes him a while to realize she’s rocking unsteadily along his thigh. Her other hand reappears from between her legs, and- he doesn’t know what kind of noise he makes, exactly, but it sounds like a wounded animal, a high, rasping whine full of longing and hunger. She grins, makes a show of licking her fingers, and he _aches_.

“Millie,” He gasps, “Did you-”

“Not yet,” She admits, laughing quietly, though the way she trips over her words speaks volumes about how close she is. The frantic need to pull her to him, to fill her and finish what she started spills from him.

“I want you, I want- just- Please!”

She tilts her head, smiling. “Where do you want me?” She tightens her hand around his cock. “Here?”

“Yes!” His entire being trembles with the word. His heels dig into the bed.

“That’s alright,” Millie tells him gently, “But we’re going to do this my way. Is that okay?”

He’s nodding even before she finishes. “Anything.”

A dangerous promise, and he’s never meant anything more his whole life.

She smiles at him again, the way she does when he tucks loose locks of hair behind her ears. And then she pulls the crotch of her underwear out of the way, presses his cock against his stomach, and rocks her sex against him.

Hugo curses, with feelings. The crown of his cock feels swollen, heavy with blood, and every time her clit rubs against it the burst of sensation tears right through him. He knows better than to move by now despite his body screaming at him to do so; instead, he lets himself be stolen away, over and over again. The slick slide of her sex; her hand digging into his shoulder for balance; her clit; the purr of approval as she pleasures herself with his cock. He submerges into the currents and wills his mind to let go, until it has washed away all but the closeness of their bodies, their synchronized breaths, the push-and-pull of a building tempest, until his chest feels like it will cave in, and then _beyond that_ , until he loses all of his being and then finds it again.

Hugo opens his eyes, exhaling shakily, to find Millie trembling on top of him, her nails digging into his flesh. His stomach is a mess; her shuddering orgasm means his cock still slides against her with every spasm she can’t control, and he feels it throbs with the pounding of his heart, somehow miraculously unspent.

“Give me-“ She clings to him when another spasm wrecks through her. “Give me a moment.”

The reply comes in an unfamiliar rasp that Hugo almost doesn’t realize is his. “Not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

Millie snorts and then bends to bite his lip as punishment. If he melts into the kiss anyway, neither of them mentions it.

“Untie me?” He mutters in-between gasps. “I want to touch you.”

With a last, drawn-out sigh, she nods and reaches for the nightstand where a pair of scissors is waiting. It takes a little bit of finessing for her to manage it, but eventually, the tape comes off, leaving nothing but a faint impression on his skin.

Hugo wraps both arms around her the moment she’s done and sits up, keeping her in his lap. He threads his fingers in her unbound hair and holds her to him, not letting her slip away again, pouring all the fire she has kindled beneath his skin into the kiss. Millie mewls, arching her back when he grabs a handful of her ass and rolls his hips into hers. A rumbling growl slips from his lips at that, pleased to see her as utterly ruined as him.

She gives his shoulder a little shove; with effort, he draws back, though he makes his impatience clear by massaging her ass beneath her panties. Millie fumbles blindly for a condom, then it’s a race to put it on him as fast as possible before one of them loses their damn mind. She lifts herself off of him when it’s done, and he aligns his cock; in one thrust, he slides home in her wet heat. He buries a deep groan between her breasts to center himself, shuddering in ecstasy so overwhelming it’s painful. And then he begins to move.

It takes virtually no time at all for them to lose all coordination, lost as they are in the throes of pleasure. He lavishes attention to her breasts as they move as one, teasing her with teeth and tongue as she did to him. A litany of curses and prayers spills from her lips and he groans into her neck when he feels her flutter around him. She tries to time her rocking to match his but every time their bodies meet she falters, melting into the contact.

The storm rolling across his skin builds and crests and _breaks_ without warning; one moment he is there, and the next he is falling, shaking, losing himself again and again in her embrace. She makes a soft noise when he holds her to him, and a part of him blindly understands that, so he presses his thumb against her clit and hears her shout his name as she comes undone again.

~ ~ ~

Loose-limbed and happily spent, they fall back onto the bed, tucked into each other’s arms. After a moment Hugo slips out of Millie with a muttered apology; she takes the chance to roll to her back, one arm flung over her eyes, exhausted. He takes care of the condom and then comes back to scatter affectionate kisses down her stomach, then gently lifting her leg to peel off her underwear. It joins the pile of clothes on the floor, forgotten.

They doze for a while, wrapped up in each other’s arms. He doesn’t remember much but waking a few times to trade sleepy kisses before promptly falling asleep again. When Hugo finally feels awake enough, he realizes he’s spooning Millie to his chest, his lips pressed against the back of her neck. Heart swelling, he snuggles closer and breathes in deep to savor the scent of her shampoo, how intimately it blends with the scent of sex permeating the room.

“Hey.” There is a smile in her voice when she speaks.

"Hey," He replies and hears her incredulous chuckle when his hand creeps down her stomach. Millie lets him get no further than the thatch of hair between her legs before smacking him firmly.

“No! I’m beat!” She rolls over to face him and doesn’t so much as hesitate when he greets her with a kiss. It’s not flirty so much as it’s playful, and she is grinning when he finally slows.

“How was it?” She asks, part-teasing, and there’s no need to wonder what ‘it’ means.

Hugo hums. “The tape was useful,” He says, showing her his wrists, “No marks.”

Millie nods, pleased, and bends to kiss each one. He can feel her smile curving against his pulse point.

“You want to shower now?”

“But I don’t want to stand,” She whines plaintively. “If you carry me, maybe. And draw a bath. We both need to soak in some hot water right now.”

“Alright.” He snorts and begins the complicated ritual of untangling their limbs.

In a moment of inspiration, he smacks her ass as he gets out of bed and twists to dodge the offended swat thrown his way. When Millie finally catches up to him, he‘s already in the bathroom, turning the showers on.

“Asshole,” She chides. Even then she’s grinning, and she tucks herself into his side when she’s close enough to do so. He kisses her between her brows just to see her little scowl.

“Let me take care of you?”

Her face softens at that. The grin she tacks on is full of sass, but her eyes are impossibly warm.

“Spoil me, officer.”

“With pleasure, detective.”

**Author's Note:**

> //christening account with porn from niche fandom that literally nobody asks for//
> 
> a side note: hugo refers to millie as "detective" because in my canon universe she's a private investigator who came to replace the journalist hired by raphael


End file.
